


The Apprentice

by Vhetin1138



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Corruption, Gen, OC, Sith, Star Wars: White Snow, Temptation, dark side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhetin1138/pseuds/Vhetin1138
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Jedi fugitive strikes out on her own, only to stumble upon a power far darker than any she has encountered before. A Star Wars: White Snow tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Padawan

**Darksun Sector, Coruscant Underworld**

The air in the speeder bus was dank and cold as Tahiira Vaas watched condensation drip down the window. She sighed as she listened to the Masters arguing in the seats ahead of her, their voices tight and angry.

The other Padawans had refused to speak to her since the incident. Master Atuche had confiscated her lightsaber and – if the heated debate ahead of her was any indication – she wasn’t getting it back any time soon. Tahiira was left to occupy her seat alone at the back of the bus, waiting for the inevitable judgement from her peers.

She understood the cause of the others’ anger, but didn’t understand why it was a problem. Was it such a crime to defend herself?

The enclave had been under attack. Imperials had discovered their location and stormed their hideout. The other Padawans had just sat around staring in frozen horror while stormtroopers had breached the main gates. Who was going to defend them? The Masters had been bogged down in duels with the pacification troopers and the pale-skinned Inquisitor who led them. No help was coming.

So Tahiira had done the only thing she could think of: she had sprinted forward, lightsaber in hand and cut down any stormtrooper that stood in her way. It was only when another Inquisitor had appeared that she was forced to call on the Force to assist her.

But something was different this time. She had meant to lash out with a Force-driven push that would blast the Inquisitor back through the door. But when the power had surged from her fingertips, it had been something… far more powerful than she had ever imagined.

Instead of a blast of rippling Force energy, the Inquisitor had been hit full in the chest by a crackling ball of lightning. He was enveloped in a cage of pulsing purple-white energy, forcing him to writhe and scream as sparks danced across the ground. He had collapsed, rolling about and pawing frantically at the lightning that danced across his body. Before the shocked gazes of the others, the Inquisitor had gone limp, twitching sporadically while smoke rose from his corpse. He was dead, as were the troopers that had supported him.

The enclave had been forced to flee from the Imperials once more. It was almost two weeks now since Tahiira had almost single-handedly saved both herself and the other Padawans. But all the Masters could talk about was how she had overextended her powers and given in to her fear and anger. That she had skirted with powers of the dark side, to the detriment of all.

And so instead of being applauded for her actions, she was _punished_!

She scowled as the new site of their enclave came into view through the rain-slicked viewport. It was a miserable collection of slate-gray duracrete buildings that had once housed some kind of industrial processing plant. It looked dreary, cold, and uncomfortable, but it would be home for the foreseeable future.

She sighed, a scowl pulling at her purple-hued features. One of her lekku twitched against her shoulder as she listened to the Masters bickering ahead of her. Unsurprisingly, they were still arguing about her.

“She is too dangerous!” Master Artouk hissed through her air filter. The Kel-Dor Jedi Master stubbornly tucked her hands into her sleeves. “Her power is unprecedented, it is true. But she cannot control herself! If we allow her to remain with the enclave, she will inevitably bring the Inquisitors down upon our heads once more!”

“Or, Force forbid, Darth Vader.” Master Hisera shook the dreadlocks from his face. “She is far too dangerous. She puts us all at risk.”

Tahiira’s own master, the Nautolan Uma’si, blinked her large black eyes. “So what would you propose? We cannot simply toss her to the side. We did not rescue these younglings from the clones all those years ago only to discard them now.”

Master Jax sighed. “Do we sacrifice the safety and security of the other Padawans to save one? How can we assure our other Padawans can live free from the Empire?”

Tahiira shook her head. They weren’t even bothering to lower their voices!

Vesten, one of the other Padawans, slid across to sit next to her. He had an all-too-familiar sneer on his face as he leaned toward her and said, “You’ve done it this time, Tahiira.”

The Twi’lek Padawan rolled her eyes and ignored him. But he was relentless above all other things and would not let the matter rest so easily. He leaned even closer. “First you blow a hole in the wall in your sleep, then you levitate every piece of furniture in the enclave when you’re mad. Now you _killed_ someone. With _Force Lightning_. The Masters won’t forgive that. The other incidents, maybe. But not this.”

Tahiira shook her head. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.”

“You know that your power brought the Inquisitors to us. They _sensed_ you.”

“Shut up.”

“The Masters know this. You know this.”

Tahiira silently willed him to slide back into his old seat. The new enclave was getting closer. Force willing, she would only have to endure this torment for a few moments more.

But Vesten wasn’t done yet. He sneered and said, “The other Padawans don’t trust you. They think it’s only a matter of time before you’re thrown out on your own. It’s no more than you deserve.”

Tahiira scoffed and glared at the human sitting next to her. “I didn’t ask for those stormtroopers to attack us.”

“Three Padawans are dead.”

“And five are still alive because I killed that Inquisitor.”

Vesta scowled. “Tell that to Xex. Her brother was killed in that attack. How grateful do you think she feels?”

Tahiira was about to say more when someone cleared their throat ahead of them. Both Padawans turned to find Master Uma’si with her arms folded across her chest. The Nautolan Jedi glanced between the two before saying, “Vesta, the attack on the enclave was no one’s fault. The Emperor has spies everywhere, searching for Jedi. It was inevitable that they would find us eventually.”

“And now?” Vesta challenged. “What makes this new place so special?”

“We are deep in the industrial sector,” the Master said. “The fumes in the air makes satellite imagery next to impossible, and the locals are no friendlier to the Empire than we are. We will be safe here.”

Vesta scoffed and rolled his eyes. Uma’si narrowed her seemingly bottomless black eyes. When she spoke, her voice was hard and uncompromising. “Your Master awaits you, Vesta. When we disembark, you are responsible for scouting the complex for squatters with the other Padawans.”

“And what of Tahiira?”

“That is not your concern, youngling. Now obey my words. Master Hisera will not wait long.”

Vesta scowled, but obediently bowed and said, “Yes, Master.”

~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Tahiira pushed through the door to what would become her private quarters at the new enclave. That was one of the perks of this place, at least; all the Padawans had been granted the use of their own private room. She slung her pack of meager belongings into one corner with a sigh, staring around at her dull duracrete surroundings.

Master Uma’si was right behind her. She gestured with one hand and the door slid shut, giving them some modicum of privacy. She fixed Tahiira with a knowing stare. “You are having trouble with the other Padawans.”

Tahiira shook her head, her purple-black lekku flapping against her shoulders. “I don’t care what they think. I _didn’t_ cause that attack.”

“I know you did not.”

“The other Masters seem less convinced,” Tahiira said bitterly. “They want to send me away. Abandon me to the Inquisitors.”

“You know I would never let that happen.”

Tahiira shook her head and threw herself down on the nearest uncomfortable cot. “You’re in the minority, Master. You cannot stand against six others who have made their decision.”

“Leaving you to such a fate is not the Jedi way.”

Tahiira scoffed. “And what does that even mean anymore? The Jedi are gone. The Council is either dead or scattered across the galaxy. I don’t even remember what the Temple looked like before it was reduced to rubble.”

Uma’si sighed and settled herself down next to her Padawan. “I did not rescue you as a youngling only to lose you now, Tahiira.”

“Why did you do it?” Tahiira asked. “You and the other Masters ran with as many younglings as possible. Why not stand and fight?”

“Fighting was a lost cause,” Uma’si said. “They attacked the Temple with an army and were past our defenses before we even knew we were under attack. The other Masters and I knew we had to rescue as many as possible. We knew you and the other younglings would be the future of our order.”

Tahiira sighed. “And what future is that? A future of running and hiding while the Imperials pick us off one by one? Our group used to be twice this large!”

She glanced up at her master. “How long before we don’t escape? Before our luck finally runs out?”

She stared down at her lap. “How long before I attract the attention of something you can’t save me from?”

Uma’si put a comforting arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Tahiira, I will not allow you to be exiled from our group. You have an untapped potential I have not seen in many years. Your power in the Force continues to astonish me.”

“Astonishment isn’t the word I would use as description.”

“Oh? And what word would you use?”

Tahiira looked up at the Nautolan Jedi. “ _Fear_. I frighten you.”

Uma’si blinked twice, an obvious sign of surprise. But she eventually nodded and said, “I will not lie to you, my Padawan. Your abilities are indeed very powerful, perhaps even dangerously so. Before these dark times, I would have sworn you would go on to be a powerful Knight. Perhaps even sit on the Council.”

She shrugged. “But now such extremes are dangerous. The Inquisitors are specifically trained to sense budding Force powers such as yours. And every time you lose control, like you did during the battle, they can sense you as clearly as a flash of light in the darkness.”

Tahiira pushed the arm from around her shoulders. “So it’s true! You think I brought the Empire to our doorstep, just like all the others!”

“Tahiira—“

The young Twi’lek shook her head and turned away from her master. “I never wanted to be a Jedi, Uma’si! I was only five years old when the Temple fell.  I had no choice in this matter, yet you and the other Masters treat me like I am trying to bring the remnants of the Order down around us!”

“Tahiira,” Uma’si said sternly. “Control your anger.”

“No!” Tahiira shouted. “I am tired of control! I am tired of hiding, of shrinking away from what the Force has given me! I was granted these powers for a _reason_ , Master. And if I cannot use them as a Jedi, what good are they?”

“The times have changed, youngling,” the Nautolan said. “We must change with them. The Jedi _must_ endure. If we must suffer some small indignities to see that goal achieved—”

Tahiira shook her head and scowled. “Being ostracized by your own people is more than a small indignity, Master. What future do I have if my own companions think me a monster?”

Uma’si was silent for a few moments. Then she stood and folded her hands into her sleeves. “Your heart is young, my Padawan. You crave answers that can only be granted with time and experience. They will come to you, and the others will forgive you. The real question is what _you_ do now.”

She moved back toward the door. “You can allow this bitterness and anger to fester and drive you into darkness. Or you can let it go, forgive your fellows for their transgressions and, in doing so, overcome the dark period this group faces.”

She hesitated, then reached down and pressed something into Tahiira’s hand. “I have faith you will make the right choice.”

With that, the master stepped away and disappeared through the door. It slid shut behind her, leaving the young Twi’lek alone and in silence. After a few moments she looked down to see what her master had given her.

Clutched tight in her hand was her lightsaber.

She stared at the cylindrical hilt, the chromium housing scratched and scarred by years of wear and countless battles. She narrowed her eyes, then looked over at her supply pack in the corner.

_The real question is what you will do now._

Tahiira certainly had an idea in mind.

~~~~~~~~

Slipping past the other Padawans was easy; no one wanted to talk to her anyway. After that, it was just a single inconspicuous Force Jump and she was outside the gate to the complex. She glanced back only once, watching the other Padawans bustling about to secure the complex from future attack.

_They will be safer this way_ , she thought. _Master Uma’si will understand eventually. The others won’t care._

She had no future with the others. They hated and feared her power. If she was to live with this power, it would not be with them. In the end, she was only saving them time. They would throw her out eventually; she was just making it easier for them to forget her and continue to live in their cowardly self-exile.

She drew her hood over her head and hurried away, into the streets. She didn’t look back again.

The Coruscant underworld was massive; Tahiira knew, as she had lived there all her life. But the industrial sector was different. Usually the underworld was crawling with all manners of life imaginable. The heights of the planet-city were reserved only for the wealthiest and most influential beings. But Coruscant had a population of trillions and most of them lived down here, in the dark.

But the industrial sector was nearly deserted. A few desolate-looking people huddled on street corners, whispering quietly, but the only real sound Tahiira could hear was the rumble of mighty machines beneath her feet and the roar of speeders high overhead. No one cared about her, and that was just what she wanted.

After an hour of walking, she was still no closer to coming up with a plan. She knew she had to leave the enclave, but beyond that she had no idea what she was going to do. Where would she stay? What would she eat? She had a small allowance of emergency credits, but she had no idea where she would go from here.

Her stomach growled at the thought, further solidifying her point.

_I wonder if there is a market somewhere near_ , she thought. She swerved to avoid a blubbery Hutt as it slithered down the street, followed by a retinue of skittering droids and sickly-looking majordomos.

_Perhaps if I can just find somewhere quiet to stay for a while, I can wrap my head around this and come up with a plan._

Her heart excitedly skipped a beat when she spotted bright lights and flashing signs in the distance. A cantina! That was exactly what she needed to stop and collect her thoughts. Somewhere discreet and out of the way where she could rest and come to terms with her decision. She picked up the pace, all but breaking into a sprint as she drew closer to the building.

Her plans shattered into pieces when she saw the two stormtroopers guarding either side of the door.

She quickly halted, ducking behind a nearby lightpost. Glancing out, she saw that they thankfully hadn’t seen her. Her heart was hammering in her chest at the sight of their polished white armor and expressionless helmets. If they knew she was a Jedi, they would kill her on sight, or worse turn her in.

She squeezed her eyes shut and thought, _I can do this. My lightsaber is in my pack. They have no reason to suspect me. I can just… walk right through._

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back out from the light post and walked resolutely toward the door. She was acutely aware of nearly every sensation around her: the way the light danced across the polished surface of the stormtroopers’ armor, the way their fingers were pressed cautiously against the firing studs of their rifles, the humid and fetid air that washed through the street.

She was about to walk right past the troopers when one of them put a hand out to block her path. She squeaked quietly, but halted in her tracks.

“Hold it,” one trooper said. Tahiira turned to him, eyes fixed on her boots. The trooper cocked his helmeted head and said, “Curfew’s in effect, girl. Let’s see some identification.”

_Sithspit_. Tahiira’s heart was thudding uncomfortably in her chest. She glanced around, desperately fishing for an excuse. _I guess it’s time to improvise._

She raised one hand and passed it in front of the eye-shaped visor of the trooper’s helmet.

“You don’t need to see my identification.”

The trooper stiffened slightly, then muttered back, “I… don’t need to see your identification.”

“You don’t care who I am. I can go inside.”

“I don’t care who you are. You can go inside.”

Tahiira smiled to herself and stepped past the trooper, heading inside the cantina.

There was a mechanized buzz as a blaster cycled up behind her. She froze, eyes stretched wide. She slowly turned to find the second trooper leveling his rifle at her, prepared to fire at a moment’s notice.

“Get on your knees,” he said, gesturing with his rifle. “Hands on your head.”

“We don’t care who she is,” the mind-addled trooper tried to say. His fellow soldier ignored him.

Tahiira’s eyes were as wide as a dianoga’s. Obviously this second trooper was not as weak-minded as the first. _What the kriff do I do now?_

The time for subtlety had obviously passed. She needed to flee, before this trooper called for reinforcements.

She acted before he could; her hand flew out and he was hit with a blast of telekinetic energy. He flew back and collapsed against a trash bin while Tahiira took off and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

She could hear the trooper clambering back to his feet and calling for his companion to catch her. With her concentration broken, the first trooper easily shook away the effects of her mind trick and gave chase. Tahiira cried out as blaster bolts began to pepper the ground at her feet.

“This is TK-Four-Six-Nine!” one of the troopers shouted into his comm. “Pursuing a Jedi fugitive along the southeast Vector Quadrant! Requesting immediate backup at the transmitted coordinates!”

_I have to run,_ she thought frantically. _Have to hide. Back the way I came, back to the enclave, I don’t care! Just run!_

She skidded around a corner and threw herself down a darkened alleyway. Perhaps in the shadows she could shake her pursuers. She pulled her pack from her shoulders and stuffed her hand inside, frantically reaching for her lightsaber.

She heard the stormtroopers round the corner as well, shouting for her to stop. More blaster bolts flashed by her, their scarlet light flashing through the shadows around her. One bolt exploded against the duracrete wall by her head, sending heated chips of rubble flying into her eyes.

She dodged as best she could, leaping over fallen power conduits and trash barrels. Her breath was coming in sharp, pained gasps. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. She could hear the troopers gaining on her, their blaster bolts whizzing by even closer than before.

She threw her pack to the side, clutching her lightsaber in her hand. She would stand and fight if she had to. She didn’t want to kill these men, but she couldn’t allow them to catch her. She would face death or worse if they brought her before the Inquisitors…

She was about to turn and ignite her saber when she heard a familiar _snap-hiss_ from somewhere behind her. One of the troopers shouted and she heard the sharp report of two blaster bolts.

But they were not aimed at her.

One of the troopers screamed, his voice cut short by the malevolent humming of a lightsaber blade. The second trooper shouted, “What the-!” and a second later was similarly silenced.

Tahiira came to a halt, not bothering to turn around. So, the Masters had found her after all… She hadn’t even made it that far, maybe only a few miles from the enclave. She couldn’t even begin to picture the trouble she was in.

_Maybe,_ she found herself thinking, _I was better off with the stormtroopers._

She slowly turned with a sigh, head bowed in shame to face her rescuer. She just hoped Vesta would keep his fat mouth shut about this once she got back to the enclave.

But it wasn’t one of the masters standing before her. It was a man, wearing bulky armor and a thick black cloak and cowl. His breath was low and rasping as he towered over the smoldering corpses of the two troopers. The white-clad Imperials had been efficiently dealt with; livid yellow lightsaber slashes marred their pristine armor.

And clutched tight in the man’s hand was a glowing bar of scarlet light.

Tahiira’s violet lightsaber was instantly in her hand and leveled at the man. He wasn’t her rescuer, he was an Inquisitor! She backed up, her blood freezing in her veins.

“S-stay back,” she whimpered. “I’m warning you. Don’t come a step closer.”

Then the man spoke. His voice was a baritone rumble that rasped out as if from the vocal processor of a droid. The sound sent shivers down Tahiira’s spine.

“Lower your weapon. I mean you no harm.”

“Liar,” she hissed, holding her lightsaber so tightly it shook. “You’re an Inquisitor!”

“I am not.”

“I know an Inquisitor when I see one.”

The man took a single step toward her. His lightsaber remained lit in one hand. “I am not an Inquisitor. I give you my word.”

She hesitated, then said, “What are you, then?”

He cocked his hooded head to the side, a dark chuckle bubbling up from the shadows that obscured his face. “Something… more. Far more.”

She hesitated. “And… you really aren’t going to hurt me?”

“I have no intention of doing so.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

He waved his humming lightsaber at the corpses at his feet. “I obviously hold no more love for the Empire than you do.”

_Well, I have to give him that one._ She narrowed her eyes at the mysterious man. “What do you want?”

“To meet you.”

Tahiira hesitated, her lightsaber falling the slightest bit. “W-what do you mean?”

He finally sheathed his saber, hooking it back to his belt. He spread his hands as an offering of peace and she saw that the fingers of his gloves were capped by long, razor-bladed claws.

“Allow me to introduce myself.” He reached up and drew back his hood, revealing a full-faced helmet with a T-bar visor and rectangular grill over the mouth. Tahiira had seen similar helmets when her masters had bargained with Ubese bounty hunters in the past.

The man bowed his head. “I am Draco. And like you I am hunted by the Empire.”

“You… you’re a Jedi?”

He paused. “Not exactly.”

She gestured to the lightsaber on his belt. “Where did you get that? If you’re not an Inquisitor, why do you use a red lightsaber?”

“A story for another time,” was all he said. “All you need to know is that I have been aware of your presence for quite some time. I sensed your power, even before the attack on your enclave.”

He took another step toward her, though this time she did not retreat. His voice was calm as he continued, “I knew it was only a matter of time before your masters drove you from their company. It is the nature of the Jedi to fear what they cannot control.”

He stopped just out of reach of her lightsaber. “I have come to offer you sanctuary.”

She pondered over his words. He obviously wasn’t allied with the Empire, though she wasn’t sure she could trust him. His aura surged with the dark side of the Force, more powerful than anyone she had felt before. Certainly more powerful than the Inquisitors she had faced. The thought did not ease her fears.

_But what choice do I have?_ She thought. _If I stay here on my own, I run the risk of tipping off more stormtroopers. I can’t just blunder through this place on my own._

She glanced at the armored man again. His breath was heavy and labored, as if helped along by an artificial respirator. One razor-clawed hand was clenched into a fist, and he was staring at her expectantly.

_He_ did _save my life_ , she thought. _The least I can do is hear him out._

Ever-so-slowly, she lowered her lightsaber. With a sigh, she deactivated it and hooked it to her belt. “All right, Draco. I won’t turn away help when it’s offered freely. Especially not given the mess I seem to have made.”

She could almost sense the smile on his face, though it was hidden behind his menacing helmet.

“Good,” he thundered, drawing his hood back over his head and throwing the helmet faceplate into shadow. “Then follow me closely. The undercity is full of unfriendly eyes. Even in this place.”

Tahiira watched him stride back the way they came, casually stepping over the bodies of the slain stormtroopers. Then she threw her pack over her shoulders again and hurried after him.

_Force help me_ , she thought. _Just what have I gotten myself into?_


	2. The Master

Draco’s home – if one could call it that – was a run-down warehouse a good hour’s trek from the cantina and the dead stormtroopers that littered the alley there. The mysterious armored man moved like a flitting shadow, stalking through the back alleys and darkened streets as if his hefty armor was weightless. His cloak billowed out behind him as he walked, making him seem to double in size, and try as she might to stay even with her savior, Tahiira could only barely keep up with him.

Never once did he stray from his path or look over his shoulder to make sure Tahiira was keeping up. She was sure he could sense her presence, but it was still disconcerting; almost as if he didn’t care she was there at all, or –more frightening – was purposefully hiding his interest in her presence.

She didn’t try to speak to him. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to work up the courage even if she tried. Her Jedi senses were as sharp as ever, and she could feel the dark side rolling off this man in waves. It radiated from him, like smoke billowing from an active volcano. It buffeted her, uncomfortably so, as if she was sitting too close to a heater in the dead of winter.

The Inquisitors had felt different. During the duel, Tahiira had sensed a wave of ice-cold through the Force, intermittently shot through with hot flashes of adrenaline or hatred. But always there remained that icy sense of calm and cold, sinister calculation. But Draco…

He was an inferno, a bottomless well of seething rage that threatened to explode at the slightest provocation. Tahiira found herself tensing every time she drew near him, her instincts screaming at her that he was not to be trusted, not to be followed. But never once did he lose his level-headed look of calm. He walked briskly but smoothly, all but gliding through the duracrete streets with boots that barely made a sound.

_Don’t trust this man,_ she found herself thinking. _You were a fool to even agree to follow him. I don’t know what he is or what he wants, but he is dangerous. Far more dangerous than a few Inquisitors._

But so were the stormtroopers that would inevitably be hunting her. So were the Masters she had abandoned only hours before. So was _she,_ if so prodded.

Draco had cut down two stormtroopers within the blink of an eye. He was obviously a skilled swordsman, and Tahiira could sense the Force within him. He obviously wasn’t a Jedi, not even a fallen one. And if he wasn’t an Inquisitor…

Just what _was_ he?

When they reached Draco’s hidden warehouse, he ducked inside without a single word or indication that they had arrived at their destination. Tahiira followed at a slower, more cautious pace, wary of an ambush. But when she stepped through the small, nearly-invisible door leading into his sanctum, she found only a large, sparsely-decorated warehouse floor.

It was obvious that her mysterious savior was not the only occupant here. There were cots scattered about the floor and a hastily-drawn series of circles in the center of the area. Tahiira recognized it from her own experience as a sparring circle – she had trained in lightsaber combat using a similar design.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

“Sanctuary,” Draco rumbled. He drew his hood back over his helmet, letting the sparse ambient light cast shimmering highlights across the dull metal. “My disciples live, train, and plan here, free from unwanted eyes. It is a haven for those who are worthy of it.”

So there _were_ more than just Draco. The thought was not comforting. “And… where are they now? Your followers?”

With a dry wheeze, Draco took off again and strode confidently into a different room. “Tending to various tasks and ensuring my will is done. They have their missions throughout the undercity. They will return, but not for some time.”

“Are… are you some kind of cult leader?”

Draco obviously did not find the sentiment amusing. “Something of the sort, I suppose.”

He led her into a small kitchen and gestured for her to sit at the rickety-looking table in the center. A meal was already prepared: agro-meat and synthmash. She slowly took the seat, not wanting to upset her host.

“Were you expecting me?”

“Your arrival was foretold,” was all Draco would say. “Now please. Eat. You must recover your strength.”

Tahiira didn’t argue, her stomach growling loudly at the armored man’s words. But she still was curious enough to inquire, “For what?”

Draco did not answer. He turned away and busied himself with something on the counter. She was more than content to leave him to his own musings. But then she noticed the assorted collection of lightsabers hanging from his belt.

There were at least five of them, each unique in its design. She saw an elegant, curved dueling saber and a sharp-angled, lethal-looking battle saber. There was even the severed emitter of a hefty lightsaber pike, and what looked like a miniscule lightsaber shoto next to that.

She gulped. “Were… were those taken from Inquisitors?”

His answer was short and curt. “Some of them.”

She fell silent, her gaze returning to her plate. She was surer than ever now that agreeing to accompany him was a bad decision. She shook her head and thought, _what the kriff was I thinking? I’m going to get myself killed._

She was more than content to let silence overtake them. But after a short time, Draco gestured with one razor-bladed glove and a deep rumble filled the air. Tahiira’s lightsaber quivered, then suddenly flew from her belt and clapped into the palm of his hand.

She sputtered, dropping her fork. “Hey! That’s mine!”

He didn’t turn, nor did Tahiira have any desire to press the issue; she didn’t want to provoke her – for now – gracious host. He just tucked her lightsaber out of sight in front of him and began to tinker with it. “It will be returned to you shortly. Calm yourself.”

Tahiira glared at the back of his head, but slowly returned to her meal. It didn’t take long to realize how long it had been since she had eaten fully, and in a few short minutes she was wolfing down the synthetic paste and hard meat as quickly as she could.

“So,” she eventually said, her mouth still full of bland protein mash, “why did you help me back there? You obviously know I’m a Jedi.”

“I do.”

“Well, most people don’t have a very high opinion of Jedi these days.”

He continued his business with her lightsaber. She could hear metal scraping and screws being removed. “Rest assured that I too hold no love for Jedi.”

“Then…” Tahiira paused, “why help me?”

He looked up, and Tahiira sensed anger pulse within him. Tahiira felt shivers race up her spine and quickly looked away.

“You are powerful,” he boomed, resting his clawed gloves on his hips. “More powerful than most who flee from the Empire’s wrath. I would not see such power stagnate under the slothful eyes of the Jedi.”

“I can feel that you aren’t exactly weak yourself,” Tahiira pointed out. “But your presence… it seethes with dark side energy. You’re no Jedi.”

He said nothing.

“You’re more powerful than any Inquisitor I’ve ever felt,” she continued, “but if that’s true, why hasn’t the Empire found you and conscripted you?”

He finally turned back to her. Held tightly in one hand was her lightsaber, but he made no motion to hand it over. With a dry, sickly-sounding wheeze, he settled into the chair across from her.

“Let me tell you a story,” he said. “A story that begins thousands of years ago.”

He set the lightsaber on the table between them. “Long ago, the Jedi and their eternal enemies, the Sith, fought a final, cataclysmic battle on the planet Ruusan. The results of the battle were almost complete: there were few survivors on either side.”

“I remember the Masters teaching me of this,” Tahiira murmured. “The Sith created a doomsday weapon that killed almost everything on the planet.”

“The purest, most destructive expression of the Dark Side,” Draco said. “With its use, the Jedi forces and the Sith brotherhood were completely annihilated. Yet the Republic endured and claimed victory, while the Sith withered away into the histories as the vanquished evil-doers.”

That T-visored gaze seemed to stare right through Tahiira, and his rasping wheezes sent shivers down her spine. The razor-bladed claws of his gloves tapped lightly against the tabletop.

“Unknown to the galaxy, the Sith endured. A Sith Lord by the name of Bane escaped the battle and reformed the order. He dictated that there should only be two Sith: master and apprentice.”

Tahiira’s eyes were wide. “They… they survived?”

“You are so surprised?” Draco said, cocking his helmeted head.

“Well… not really, I guess. There have always been rumors that Darth Vader was more than just a fallen Jedi. But…”

Draco continued his tale. “Yet Bane failed to ensure that he and his apprentice were the _only_ survivors of the battle. Other Lords survived and fled into the depths of uncharted space, determined to rebuild their order in safety and security far from the scrutiny of the Jedi.”

He cocked his head, his helmeted gaze never leaving her. “They lived in peace and isolation, keeping a watchful eye on the galaxy they had left behind. After a time, they began to send acolytes into the galaxy to conscript other powerful Force-users into the fold.”

Tahiira’s eyes widened as she began to put the pieces together. The mysterious armored man, the red lightsaber…

He continued his tale as her heart began to sink with dread. “This isolated community lived in secret for millennia. Then, a year ago, one of the acolytes captured a powerful Force-sensitive girl and brought her back to the enclave.”

He stood from his chair and began pacing back and forth, hands linked behind his back. “Yet the girl’s companions were a greater threat than anyone anticipated. They tracked her to the enclave, with the Empire in tow. Despite the best efforts of the acolyte and the enclave’s greatest warriors, the Sith were decimated. There were no survivors.”

“And… and you,” Tahiira gulped, “you were that acolyte?”

He slowly turned to her, clenching a fist. “Perhaps proper introductions are in order, young Jedi.”

He straightened into a rigid pose and bowed at the neck, an ancient sign of respectful greeting. The motion only made Tahiira’s blood run cold.

“I am Darth Draco, mightiest warrior of the Xexeron enclave of Sith Lords. My people have fallen, and I now seek vengeance for their destruction.”

She instantly leapt from her chair and reached for her lightsaber. Before she could grab the weapon, Draco’s own lightsaber was lit and held tightly in his clawed hand. The scarlet blade hovered inches in front of her chest, humming violently. A terrified squeak tore itself from her throat and she froze like a small rodent before a predatory hawkbat.

“That,” the Sith Lord boomed, “would be most unwise.”

She shivered, eyes wide and terrified. “You’re really a Sith?”

“A true-blooded warrior,” he said haughtily. He placed his fist against his chest. “Trained since infancy in the ways of the Dark Side.”

His lightsaber continued emitting its malevolent drone, casting blood red light across the kitchen. Draco tilted his helmet down, scrutinizing her closely. “I sensed your power long ago and have been watching ever since. My followers seek to bolster their numbers, and I have been far too long without an apprentice.”

Tahiira’s sinking heart now plummeted into the pit of her stomach. She snatched her lightsaber from the table and clutched it close to her chest. Draco’s lightsaber was still aimed resolutely at her and she slowly backed away from him.

“I… I can’t be your apprentice!” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m a Jedi!”

“Are you?” he stepped around the table, advancing on her. His voice was low and soft, a predatory purr interrupted only by the staggered wheeze of his breath. “As I recall, you fled your enclave. Your people turned against you, believing you to be the cause of their troubles.”

His bootsteps thudded against the floor as he followed her toward the exit. “The Jedi preach peace and acceptance yet practice isolation and ostracism. So long as they fear the Empire, they will never accept you. They will never realize your power and potential.”

“That’s not true! Master Uma’si doesn’t fear me!”

“Search your feelings,” the Sith thundered. “You know that you will never find true purpose among their ranks. You will never be an equal among them, but a liability. They will cast you out in the interest of self-preservation.”

That certainly sounded like something Vesta would approve of. He had been arguing with the other Padawans to throw her out ever since the attack on the enclave. If he got his way, she would never be accepted back.

Draco must have sensed her indecision, as he took another step toward her. She, in turn, took another step away.

“Join me,” he insisted, “and I will help you to unlock the true potential of your abilities. You will want for nothing and will find yourself in command of powers you cannot even imagine! All the power and authority you dream of lies at your fingertips, waiting for you to reach out and claim it.”

He lowered his lightsaber and held out a clawed glove, beckoning to her. “Only take my hand, and you will become more powerful than your Jedi Masters ever dreamed. And together, we will rid the galaxy of Bane’s cowardly descendants, bringing true peace to all!”

“I can’t!” Tahiira said. “It’s not the Jedi way!”

“The Jedi seek to spread peace across the galaxy,” Draco said. “Is it not your sworn duty to destroy evil wherever you find it?”

“W-well…”

“And if placed before Darth Vader or the Emperor, is it not your duty to destroy them?”

“But-”

“The Jedi way will not carry you to victory,” Draco said. “Only by joining me will you find the clarity and purpose you seek.”

“I… I can’t…” Tahiira shook her head desperately. “I just can’t!”

Draco clenched his fist in irritation, then deactivated his lightsaber and hooked it back to his belt. “Very well,” he rumbled. His voice was cold and hard. “Return to your Jedi and see how they welcome you. And when they turn you away to the street again – if they do not choose to kill you outright – know that I offered you sanctuary and purpose.”

Tahiira stared at him, indecision weight at her heart. It was true that she sought inclusion and wished to truly fight evil. But… but the Sith way was wrong! It went against everything she had been trained to believe. Even if she used it to combat evil…

“I just… no!” she said, shaking her head so wildly her lekku flailed behind her. “I can’t.”

“You must do what you think is right,” Draco said. “Choose what you must.”

He gestured with one hand and the door swung open behind her.

Tahiira instantly turned and fled, running from the warehouse as quickly as her legs could take her. Her lightsaber was clutched with a death grip in one hand. She glanced over her shoulder to see Draco watching her from the doorway.

Then she fixed her eyes ahead of her and didn’t look back. She didn’t trust herself to look back and remain true to her purpose. She needed to return to the enclave as quickly as possible.

The Masters needed to be told of this disturbing development.


	3. The Fallen Daughter

To Tahiira’s disappointment – though not to her surprise – Vesta was guarding the complex when she returned. The human smirked at her and folded his arms as she approached.

“Well, well, well,” he sneered, leaning against the entry gate to the enclave. “The prodigal Padawan returns. Did you have a nice stroll?”

“Shut up,” she snapped. She pushed past him and forced her way into the complex. “Where are the Masters?”

Vesta scowled at her, but didn’t try to keep her out. “In a meeting, debating whether to go after you or just leave you to the underworld.”

She could guess which alternative Vesta preferred. She brushed aside such thoughts and demanded, “Where are they? I must speak with them.”

“I bet. But I don’t think they’ll want to talk to—”

She spun and grabbed him by the front of his robes, yanking him forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. “I have information that – if left unattended – could spell the destruction of the Order. The Masters need to be warned. So _where are they_?”

Vesta yanked himself free with a scowl. After straightening his robes, he reluctantly pointed to the round records building that the Masters had claimed as their new meeting chambers. “You’ll find them in there. But don’t expect a warm welcome.”

She instantly jogged for the building, leaving an angry and confused-looking Vesta in her wake.

~~~~~~~~

Infuriatingly, Vesta had been right. The Masters were far from pleased to see her again.

She was currently standing in the circular chamber they had converted into a kind of pseudo-Council room.  All five masters were assembled and currently staring at her with angry gazes. Tahiira had her arms linked behind her back, her head bowed in respect as they berated her for leaving.

“What were you _thinking_?” Master Artouk growled. The Kel-Dor woman’s expression was unreadable behind her bulky face mask, but the fury in her voice was unmistakable. “You risked the safety and preservation of this enclave by leaving. And for what? Some childish act of rebellion?”

Master Hisera’s voice was calmer, though his eyes showed no less anger. “Your actions put this entire enclave in jeopardy, Padawan. I’m sure you understand the gravity of what you have done.”

“What I did was reckless,” Tahiira agreed. “But I believe it was ultimately fruitful. While I was outside the walls, I… met someone.”

“Met someone,” Master Uma’si echoed, one finger absently stroking her green-hued chin. “Who?”

“He identified himself as Draco. He was a powerful warrior, armed with the Dark Side of the Force, but he showed no quarter to a pair of stormtroopers who were chasing me. He was no friend of the Empire. He claimed…” she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable reaction. “He claimed he was Sith Lord.”

Silence.

She opened her eyes to see the Masters exchanging confused and disbelieving stares. She saw both disbelief and fear in their gazes, and couldn’t blame them for such a reaction; Inquisitors were bad enough, but Sith were another matter entirely.

Eventually, Master Boira spoke up. The dark-skinned woman folded her hands and matter-of-factly stated, “The Sith are extinct. They have been for over a millennia.”

Master Uma’si was not so easily swayed. “Do you not remember the rumors during the Clone Wars? The Council was convinced that a Sith Lord was controlling the Senate and the Chancellor.”

Master Hisera stroked at his beard. “And we have all seen the images of Darth Vader.”

“Vader uses the mantle and weaponry of the Sith to instill fear in the populace. It is a clever propaganda ploy. We all know it was a Jedi who led the attack on the Temple and slaughtered our knights, not a resurgent member of a long-dead order.”

Master Artouk’s shielded gaze fell on Tahiira again. “This strange man, Draco… how did he feel? What did your senses tell you?”

“He felt,” Tahiira suppressed a shudder at the memory, “like his aura was aflame. Like magma flowed through his veins, as if this great burning core fueled his actions and generated insurmountable rage. It was unlike anything I have ever felt before.”

“Is that admiration I hear in your voice?” Master Artouk’s distorted growl was dangerously low.

“Of course not!” Tahiira protested. “But… but I have never felt such power, even when dueling Inquisitors. I don’t know if he was truly a Sith Lord, but he was certainly something we have never experienced before.”

“Padawan,” Master Uma’si said slowly, “what did this man say to you? What did he do?”

Tahiira debated whether to tell the whole truth: Draco’s offer to her, his pledge that if she joined him she would become vastly more powerful.

But the Masters needed to know the whole truth if they were to stand against this resurgent Dark Lord. Besides, she hadn’t _accepted_ his offer so there was no harm in revealing his intentions. Was there?

Still uncertain, she bit her lip. But she forced herself to continue her tale.

“He offered to take me on as his apprentice. He claimed that he has been watching me, that he senses my power and wishes to hone it into a weapon to use against the Emperor. He said… he said that if I joined him, I would become more powerful than I could ever dream.”

The Masters were silent once more. For a moment, Tahiira thought they were simply considering her words. Then Master Artouk sighed and murmured, “I am sorry to hear that, young one.”

She gestured with an orange-skinned hand. “Seize her.”

“What?”

Rough hands suddenly grasped Tahiira’s shoulders, pulling her hands behind her back. She cried out and struggled, breaking free from her captor and turning to find another Padawan – Loka – standing behind her.

“Stay away from me!” she cried, backing against the wall.

Uma’si’s voice cut over hers. The Nautolan Master stepped in front of Artouk and snapped, “Is this what we have become? Is this what the Jedi way dictates? Who are you to harm my Padawan because of her experience?”

“She has been tempted by the Dark Side,” Artouk rumbled, folding her hands once more. “Until we can discern whether this Darth Draco’s actions succeeded, we cannot trust her. He may have already corrupted her.”

“No!” Tahiira cried, shrinking away as Padawan Loka lunged for her again. “No, I didn’t accept anything from him! I refused it all and ran as soon as I knew the truth!”

“Would that we could so easily believe you,” Master Hisera said. “I am sorry, Tahiira, but it must be this way. At least for now.”

“Hisera!” Uma’si snapped. “We cannot do this! Tahiira has admitted to her mistake. Punishing her for her honesty is not the Jedi way!”

“The Jedi way has changed,” Hisera growled. “When our order was driven into the shadows and hunted across the galaxy, we were forced to abandon such enlightened ideals!”

“I agree,” Artouk said. “Our primary focus now must be survival.”

“But—”

“Stand aside, Uma’si. We all know this must be done.”

“I cannot—”

Artouk stepped in front of the Nautolan Jedi. “Either stand aside and let us do what must be done, or share your Padawan’s place in the cells.”

Uma’si held the Kel-Dor’s gaze, then looked to the ground. With her hands folded in front of her, she stepped away.

Tahiira’s heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach. Master Uma’si… she was backing down? What was she _thinking_?

“M-Master,” she stammered, “you can’t…. you can’t let them do this!”

Uma’si said nothing.

“The Council has spoken,” Hisera rumbled. “You are not being punished, Tahiira. We merely wish to keep you in a secure location until the truth of your words can be determined.”

Tahiira clenched her hands into fists and shouted, “Meanwhile, Darth Draco will raze this enclave to the ground!”

“Control yourself, Padawan! Before we must use force!”

Padawan Loka took a step forward, but Tahiira threw out her arm. A thundering surge of telekinetic energy pushed him back a few feet. She drew her other hand back, preparing to unleash another.

“ _Padawan_!”

“I won’t let you do this! This is _wrong!”_

Artouk nodded to Loka, who drew a green-bladed lightsaber. The point swung down to aim at her chest.

Tahiira froze, her gaze locked on the humming emerald blade. She slowly looked to her Master, helplessly seeking assistance in this insane nightmare.

“Uma’si…” she whimpered, “don’t let this happen. Don’t abandon me like this!”

But Uma’si’s gaze was fixed on the ground. All she would say was, “the Council has made its decision. I’m sorry, Tahiira.”

Tahiira’s eyes narrowed. “Then… so am I.”

In that moment, her mind was dominated by the baritone rumble of Draco’s voice.

_The Jedi preach peace and acceptance,_ he had told her, _yet practice isolation and ostracism. So long as they fear the Empire, they will never accept you. They will never realize your power and potential._

_I can’t just stand by and let them take me_ , she thought. _I won’t._

She reached down to her belt and drew her own lightsaber. She raised it to shoulder-level and depressed the activation stud. The weapon kicked in her hand slightly, the blade springing to life with a gratifying _snap-hiss_.

The result of her defiance, however, was not as she expected. As soon as she drew her blade, all five Masters gasped and quickly drew their weapons as well. Their eyes were wide and afraid, while Padawan Loka fell back a few steps with a terrified expression on his face.

Master Artouk’s voice was unnaturally calm and level, just barely loud enough to be heard over the thrum of a combined seven lightsaber blades.

“So it’s true, then…” the Kel-dor hissed. “You truly are lost.”

Tahiira was uncomprehending for a moment, until she realized that the others weren’t staring at her, but at her lightsaber.

Her lightsaber was different. Where once had been a pulsating violet blade, she was now holding a lightsaber colored the deepest scarlet.

Everything stopped. In that moment, the Council wasn’t there, Padawan Loka wasn’t there, and even her own body felt numb and far away. All that truly existed was that glowing, blood-red lightsaber.

_Draco…_ she found herself thinking. _Draco must have done something. He must have switched out the crystal. When he took my saber, back in that warehouse…_

“Masters,” she gasped, quickly lowering the lightsaber. “Masters, I swear… I swear I had no idea!”

“She is _his_ agent now!”

“She has given herself to the Dark Side!”

Uma’si looked just as shocked as Tahiira felt. Her bottomless black eyes were even wider than usual, the tips of her head-tendrils twitching in surprise. She took a single step forward and held out a hand to her Padawan.

“Put the lightsaber down, Tahiira. Just… put it down and we can… can talk about this.”

Tahiira’s grip slackened on the hilt of her saber. “Master Uma’si…”

Padawan Loka acted before Tahiira could stop him. He darted forward, slashing and knocking her lightsaber aside. Her arm was wrenched to the side, too far to riposte. He pulled back, then slammed the hilt into her forehead.

There was a flash of white, then she knew nothing more.

~~~~~~~~

The stormtrooper held out a hand at the Dark Lord’s approach. A short-stocked rifle was clutched in his other hand, but Draco paid it little mind; it was far from a danger at this point.

“Halt!” the trooper barked through his gravelly vocoder. “This area is off-limits, sir.”

He stopped and pretended to play along. He kept his head angled down, so his hood threw the angular planes of his helmet into shadow. “For what reason?” he inquired.

“We have information that there are dangerous fugitives in the area. For your own protection, we’ve sealed off this sector until they’re found.”

“What kind of fugutives?”

The trooper’s partner, who was standing a few feet back, now spoke up. “We’re not at liberty to say, citizen. Move along, and make sure you steer clear of this area for the time being. We’ll notify the locals when it opens up again.”

Draco concealed his irritation at their attempts to deflect his queries. Raising a single hand, he waved it before the trooper’s rotund double visors and intoned, “You will tell me what manner of fugitives you are hunting.”

A deep rumble filled the air. Both troopers sagged, their shoulders falling and their weapons turning toward the ground. Then, in a slurred, almost drunken voice, the first said, “I… will tell you what manner of fugitives we are hunting…”

The white-clad man gestured over his shoulder. “We had reports that Jedi were hiding in this area. We later found the bodies of the troopers who had made the reports. They were dead, with lightsaber burns on their armor.”

“And where exactly do you believe their hidden enclave to reside?”

“Just a short distance past this checkpoint. We’ve cordoned off the area until a full assault can be mounted.”

Draco nodded, feeling a small surge of satisfaction; he wasn’t too late, then. He bowed his head and boomed, “You have my thanks.”

“You’re welcome citizen. Now move—”

Draco clenched his fist and both troopers spasmed as if hit with stun rounds. There was a deep crunch of bone, and the men fell limp with a clatter of armor plating. Draco stared at them, then brushed by and hurried on his way.

He didn’t have much time. Neither did his quarry.

~~~~~~~~

When Tahiira finally came to, the first thing she noticed was that it was cold. She was already shivering by the time her vision returned to her, and she felt goosebumps already racing up her arms. She tried to hug her arms around herself, but found that she couldn’t move them.

Her lips felt sluggish, too heavy, as she blinked and muttered, “Wha… where am I?”

She heard a sigh from in front of her. Her vision continued to clear, the haze clearing to reveal Master Uma’si standing on the other side of a heavy iron cell door. Her hands were linked behind her back and her wide eyes were as expressionless as ever.

Tahiira tried again to move her arms and found them just as unresponsive. She craned her neck, grimacing as the motion sent a swift spike of pain through her forehead, and saw that her arms were held to the wall with tight electro-shock restraints. Further inspection revealed that her legs were similarly bound.

“M-master,” Tahiira whimpered, “what’s going on?”

Uma’si seemed to struggle to find the right words. She eventually shook her head and murmured, “What were you thinking, Padawan? Barging into the compound after what you’ve done?”

Tahiira was uncomprehending. “What… what I’ve done?”

The Nautolan Jedi Master shook her head again, the tips of her many head-tendrils twitching in irritation and surprise. “I believed I had taught you better, Tahiira. I knew you were impulsive, but giving yourself over to a _Sith_?”

“Master!” Tahiira cried. Her blood had turned to ice in her veins. “Master, you must believe me! I haven’t turned to the Dark Side! I was telling the truth!”

“Look at it from our point of view,” Uma’si snapped. “You foolishly leave the protection of the enclave, willingly opening yourself up to corruption from the Empire. You know your powers attract the Inquisitors, yet you decided to flee regardless. Then you suddenly return, telling tales of Sith Lords and brandishing a scarlet lightsaber!”

Uma’si shook her head again. “You are either lying, or a fool. I don’t know which is worse.”

Tahiira felt tears welling up in her eyes and she pulled at her restraints. “Master… I never wanted any of this.”

“And yet—”

“I haven’t betrayed the Order! I would never do such a thing!”

“Then where was your lightsaber modified?”

“The… the Sith Lord! He took it while we were speaking. He must have changed the crystal!”

“And you allowed him to take your weapon? Tahiira, that could be seen as treason!”

Her tears began to trickle down her purple-hued cheeks now. “I-I was afraid… I didn’t know what to do.”

Uma’si rubbed her brow and let out a weary sigh. “Padawan, I want to believe you. Truly, I do. But the Jedi must be more cautious than ever if we are to survive in this new and unforgiving world. If you are telling the truth, the Council will be able to sense it. Until that time, we must view you as a potential threat. The safety of this enclave must come before all.”

She stepped away from the bars. Her voice was flat and hollow as she spoke. “The Masters will come to a decision soon. I pray that they are merciful.”

As the Master stepped away, Tahiira managed to choke out, “You are betraying me a second time…”

Those large black eyes snapped back to her. Tahiira held the bottomless midnight gaze, feeling tears streaming down her face.

“When they all turned against me…” she hissed, tugging futilely against her restraints. “I thought you would defend me. That you would stand at my side as a Master should. But you didn’t. You _abandoned_ me.”

“Tahiira—”

“Did you think I couldn’t sense your feelings for me, Master? You see me as the daughter you never had, the family you never knew, despite Jedi rules forbidding such attachment. I never said anything because…” Her voice caught in her throat.

Uma’si shook her head once, a short, terse, angry shake. “Tahiira, stop.”

But the Padawan continued. “I never said anything because I felt the same way. You were more than my Master, Uma’si. You were my _mother_. My family. I thought I was safe with you. That I would always be safe with you.”

Her eyes narrowed, her heart hardening in her chest. “But when I needed you, you turned your back. You let the Masters turn against me. You let the other Padawans ostracize me. You let me be isolated, drove me from the arms of the very Order I was sworn to protect.”

“Stop it, Padawan,” Uma’si hissed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about,” Tahiira shot back, tugging against her restraints. Something was bubbling up inside her, something massive and powerful and so hot it seemed to scald her from within. She didn’t shout – instead, her voice was a quiet, controlled hiss.

This wasn’t anger. It was something else entirely.

_The Dark Side_ , her mind whispered to her. _This is what it feels like. What it_ really _feels like. It’s more than just getting mad during battle. More than being proud or jealous. It’s more than just anger._

_It’s_ hate _. And it feels good_ …

Her lips drew back from her teeth in a predatory snarl as she continued to berate her Master. “You think you’re doing what’s best for the Jedi, but you’re betraying your own ideals in the process! Is it truly the Jedi way to fear what you don’t understand? To turn against the weak and defenseless and brand them a traitor just for exercising independence?”

“The times have changed. We must change with them!”

“Oh, but change you have, Master,” Tahiira mocked. “I wonder what Masters Yoda or Windu would say if they could see you now: imprisoning helpless Padawans, chaining them to a dungeon wall for the crime of speaking the _truth_!”

“Stop talking.”

“And what will you do if the Masters _don’t_ think I’m telling the truth? We both know they’re going to kill me, Master. Will you stand up for me _then_? Or will you defend your daughter like you defended her up there in the Council Chambers? Will you stand idly by while they cut my head from my shoulders?”

She yanked hard against her restraints, pushing herself as far forward as she could go. “As far as I’m concerned, Master Uma’si, you’re no better than the kriffing Inquisitors!”

Uma’si snapped; she pressed close to the bars and hissed, “You think I _wanted_ this? You think that I stood with the others in their decision to cast you out? Who do you think argued your defense after you lost control the first time? Who do you think convinced the masters not to abandon you when you blew a hole through the wall of the last enclave because you had a nightmare?”

The Nautolan’s slim frame was quivering with suppressed rage. “I have _always_ defended you, Padawan! The fact that you are too blinded by pride and anger only serves to prove that the Masters are right to be wary of you.”

Tahiira said nothing, though her mind once again hissed words she dare not speak. _You will find no argument from me there, Master. They_ are _right to fear me…_

It took Master Uma’si great effort to regain control of her emotions. She took several deep breaths, closing her large eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was as calm as before.

“You walk a dark and dangerous path, Padawan. I hope you have the wisdom to find your way back to us. Before it’s too late for all of us.”

Tahiira shook her head in disbelief. “The Masters have made their decision, Uma’si. They made it long before the _last_ enclave was attacked. They have always feared me, always wanted to be rid of me.”

She looked at the ground with a disgusted sneer. “It is already too late.”

Uma’si let out a short little breath; Tahiira could tell those words hurt more than any said so far. But she did not apologize, nor did she look up when she heard footsteps retreating down the hall outside her cell. There was the _boom_ of a slamming door, and Tahiira sensed that she was alone.

She didn’t know how long she hung against the wall in silence, feeling that bubbling pit of anger rising within her. But she did know that she would not walk idly and serenely to an unearned execution. If the Masters tried to punish her for crimes she never committed, she would not go quietly. She would show them just why they were so afraid of her.

“Good. You are learning.”

She almost screamed, her head snapping up at the sound of the new voice. She would recognize that sickly baritone rumble anywhere.

“L-lord Draco?”

He melted out from the shadows, stepping from the corner of her cell as if he could materialize through the wall. His battered combat armor glinted in the dim light, and she could once again feel that seething mass of rage hiding just below the surface of his presence in the Force.

She scowled at him. “Why are _you_ here? Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

He linked his arms behind his back and said nothing. That was good, too; she had more to say.

“Why did you change the crystal in my lightsaber? Why would you force the others to turn against me?”

He cocked his head, a note of dry humor in his rumbling voice. “I wished to open your eyes to the cowardice of the Jedi. You were too infatuated with their image before, too caught up in their legend. I needed to show you that they were not the infallible titans you believed them to be.”

“I never believed—”

“But you did,” he said. “You were still loyal to them, even though they were not loyal to you. I needed to prove that to you. And see how easily they betrayed you.”

He gestured in the vague direction in which Uma’si had disappeared. “You have done nothing aggressive toward them, shown no animosity toward these so-called Masters. And yet they still treat you as if you were an enemy, simply because of the shade of the crystal in your lightsaber.”

He fixed her with that unreadable T-visored gaze. “Such short-sightedness will be their downfall. By changing your crystal, I ensured you could see that too.”

She opened her mouth, ready for some barbed retort. But none came. As much as she hated to admit it, he was _right_. The Jedi preached peace and acceptance to all beings, claiming that even Sith were not beyond redemption. But when that theory was put to the test, they grew just as prejudiced and hateful as the Empire.

She slumped against her restraints with a weary sigh. “So what do I do? Just wait for them to execute me?”

“Of course not. You must break free.”

“How?” she tugged against the shackles binding her to the wall. “I can’t break free on my own. And the electricity in these shackles dampens my Force abilities.”

“That is where you are very wrong, young one.”

She frowned. “What?”

Draco gestured to her with a single clawed hand. “Search your feelings. The restraints dampen your abilities, but they do not deplete them; your command of the Force is muted, but not severed. The power to free yourself rests at your fingertips if you can only reach out and claim it.”

He rested his hands on his hips. “You know this to be true.”

She took a few deep breaths, understanding his words. She _could_ do this. She knew she was more than strong enough to overpower the shackles. She just needed to build up her power high enough. She nodded to him and murmured, “All right. I can do this.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowing her heartbeat and allowing her senses to stretch out around her. She could hear the gentle hum of the restraints, feel the steady pulse of electricity buzzing just under the surface of the smooth metal. She could feel the rough way the restraints were bolted to the wall, and could smell the acrid tinge of ion burn as she shifted to push against the restraints once more.

The swell of the Force rose within her, like a wave preparing to crash against the beach. It started in the pit of her stomach, climbing and crashing through her senses. And just when it reached her heart, when she felt she could no longer contain the power surging within her—

The restraints buzzed and sent a powerful current of electricity up her arms and legs. She cried out in pain and in a single moment the wave of Force energy building within her dissipated, blinking out like a broken illuminator bulb.

She slumped forward, hanging limp as her breath came in short little pants. The muscles in her arms and thighs were twitching sporadically and her head was beginning to hurt from the electric jolt.

She looked up at Draco through streaming eyes. He was standing expectantly, arms folded across his armored chest.

“I can’t do it,” she murmured. “I… I can’t break through the electricity.”

“You are wrong,” he boomed. “You are holding yourself back. Your restraints have nothing to do with it.”

“I can’t _do_ it!” she cried. “Electricity negates Force powers. You should know that!”

“The only constraints are the ones you make for yourself!” Draco said, a note of irritation entering his voice now. “Search your feelings. Focus on those thoughts that make you feel strong and use that to find the power within you.”

“But…”

“You know what I am asking,” he boomed. “Serenity and passivity will not give you the strength you seek.”

She quickly shook her head. “No. No, I won’t use my anger.”

“And why not? I watched as you bickered with your Master. I could sense it rising within you. You felt it and did not turn from it.”

She couldn’t deny his words. She had touched the surface of the Dark Side while arguing with Uma’si. And instead of shrinking away, she had embraced it. She had let it flow through her and had used it to thoroughly uproot the Master and send her stomping away in a huff. If even passive contact could shatter a Jedi Master’s composure, what other abilities could it grant her?

She looked at Draco. Something was still holding her back. “I… I don’t want to. I’m afraid.”

Surprisingly, his voice softened. “Such reaction is normal, young one. Do not flee from it. _Embrace_ it.”

He took a step toward her and put a single clawed finger under her chin, tilting her face up to look into the dark T-visor of his helmet. “The Force flows through _all_ things, Tahiira Vaas. The Jedi would tell you that it manifests only when tranquil and at peace. But it also flows through passion: fear, anger, lust, hatred… Denying this only denies you greater power.”

“What…” Tahiira licked her suddenly-dry lips. “What would you have me do?”

“ _Unleash_ ,” the Sith Lord purred. “Let all of your fear, your anxieties, your jealousies and hatreds flow through your body. Let everything you previously locked away come rushing free. Like a dam erupting from the force of water, let your heart spill out everything you sought to subdue. Only then will you have the power to free yourself from these bonds.”

“I… I can try.”

He stepped away and linked his arms behind his back. “The Jedi would tell you to control your feelings. To cower from them and hide them away like some shameful thing. I would have you _embrace_ them, and in doing so become more powerful than any Jedi.”

His gaze never left hers. “You know what you must do. Now _do it_.”

His words made something inside her shift. Tahiira felt the rage build almost instantly, a fiery ball that grew just behind her heart. Her face drew down in a frown of concentration and she clenched her hands into fists.

Draco’s head tilted back slightly and he hissed, “Yes… I can feel your anger.”

Tahiira’s teeth clenched tightly as she focused on stoking the fire within her. She felt it building just behind her heart, swelling and growing not unlike before. But this time, instead of a calm and steady wave it was a roaring inferno that twisted and curled inside her. Her heartbeat quickened, until her pulse was pounding in her hears.

Draco spurred her on. “Think of the other Padawans who detested you and pushed you away as if you were a freak to be feared and hated. You were stronger than any of them, yet they forced you to be weak.”

“I’m _better_ than them,” she hissed, her muscles quivering, lekku twitching. The Dark Side was still building within her, but the electro-shock restraints weren’t triggering yet. “I’m _stronger_.”

“Think of the Imperials, who have hunted you since you were a child simply for being different. Think of the stormtroopers who chased you through the undercity, perfectly willing to gun down an innocent girl for no crime beyond wanting a roof over her head.”

She let out a small growl. The fire within her was overtaking her now, racing through her body like there was fire in her veins. Her hands were shaking visibly, and her teeth were clenched so tight they hurt. She felt the power within her straining for release, desperate to break free in a powerful wave of sheer destruction. Like a rancor clawing at the door of its cage, there was something vicious within her desperately wanted out.

The electro-shock restraints triggered, the sensors detecting her building Force power. Tahiira cried out in pain as she felt electricity course through her system. The fire dimmed, shrinking back to a much smaller knot just behind her breastbone. She furiously struggled to feed it back to its previous power. She thought of Vesta and his condescending sneer. She thought of Master Artouk and the ruthless way in which her warnings had been ignored. She thought of Loka and how the brute had attacked her simply for carrying a red lightsaber.

The fire behind her heart fluttered as electricity continued to flow through Tahiira’s body. She was struggling mightily, but she was losing the fight. The electro-shock restraints were about to overwhelm her.

But Draco had one last card to play.

“Now,” he suddenly hissed. “Picture your Master in your mind.”

In an instant, the blaze erupted anew. Fire surged down her arms and legs and her eyes stretched wide as rage blossomed in her heart. The electro-shock restraints doubled the charge pulsing through her, but it did little to stem the growing tide of rage within her.

“Yes,” Draco urged, stepping closer. “Hold to the thought of her. The mother you never had, but always wanted. The family to which you never truly belonged. Think of her betrayal. Her selfishness. The way she turned from you in the council chambers.”

Tahiira’s voice shook uncontrollably. “She should have stood up for me. She should have _defended me!”_

“She _betrayed_ you. She abandoned you when you needed her the most. It wasn’t the first time, and unless you bring a stop to it, it will not be the last.”

“No, it won’t. I know.”

“She never cared for you,” he snarled. His voice seemed to echo in the cell and in her mind equally. She felt him reach out with his own power, his fire melding with hers. “She wasn’t _special_. She was just like your fellow Padawans, fearing that your presence would bring the Inquisitors down upon them. She was just as eager as all the others to see you leave, and just as disappointed to see you return.”

A choked sob escaped Tahiira’s lips, but the fire in her body only grew – stoked by Draco’s own power, it seemed to swell even higher. The electro-shock restraints popped and snapped, sending sparks showering through the dark. But they couldn’t stop her now; nothing could.

“The Jedi are weak,” Draco prodded. “They will kill you unless you embrace the power to resist them.”

He was relentless, but every word that boomed out from his vocoder served to feed the fire within her. She felt electricity racing along her hands and arms, but it wasn’t the aggravating pulse of the electro-shock restraints. It was hot and fast, popping and sending purple-white highlights flashing through the darkness of the room.

A scream ripped itself from Tahiira’s throat as the energy within her began to rip itself free. She felt lightning dancing all across her body, arcing over her chest, shoulders, and legs in dancing tendrils of light. Her restraints began to shake in their housing, and a rumble like fresh thunder began to fill the room.

“Embrace your power,” Draco boomed. “Face the truth that the Jedi must pay for their hypocrisy!”

She nodded, jaw clenched tight as her entire being shook.

“Say it!”

“They… they must pay,” her voice was tight and tortured. Lighting danced up to flash around her neck, her skin shivering everywhere the purple-white coils touched. There was no pain now; only a growing sense of being overwhelmed, of being stretched like a balloon about to pop. She needed to release this energy lest it destroy her.

“Say it!” Draco pressed.

“They must pay,” she repeated through clenched teeth.

“Again!”

“They must pay!”

His voice seemed to cut through her very essence. “ _Again!”_

She threw her head back and shouted. “ _They must pay_! They are my enemies and they must _pay_!”

“What have they done to you?”

“They _betrayed me_!” she screamed. The lightning arced out from her body now, carving chunks out of the duracrete floor and sending sparks skittering across the floor. The air shimmered before her, like she was surrounding by a heat wave in the desert.

“What do they plan?”

“They plan to _kill me_!”

“And how must they pay for such betrayal?”

Tahiira’s eyes flashed open, and her vision was tinted red. The lighting drew back around her body, bunching around her clenched fists. In that moment, every atom of her being, her very soul, was consumed by fire.

“They must _die!”_

In a moment, all the power that was building up within her came roaring free. Lightning poured from her fingertips, exploding all around the room in a dancing cage of destructive energy. The electroshock restraints binding her arms and legs exploded, and the room filled with fire.

Draco threw out his arms, projecting a shimmering field around himself to shield him from the blast. Even so, he was driven back a few steps by the force of the explosion. The durasteel bars penning them in were blasted out of the duracrete walls, the bars twisting and bending while glowing red-hot. The very ground beneath Tahiira’s feet trembled like she was caught in the midst of a groundquake, and she collapsed forward onto her hands and knees.

After a few moments the maelstrom vanished, sizzling out and leaving only ash and embers drifting lazily through the air. The deep thunderclap faded away into a dying echo, until only Tahiira’s sobs and Draco’s sickly wheeze could be heard.

The young Twi’lek slumped forward onto the floor and curled into a tight ball. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she fought to dampen the fire that still raced through her mind.

Draco slowly let the energy field protecting him ease. When he was sure that her outburst was truly over, he dropped his arms to his sides and let out a long breath that echoed within the confines of his helmet. With slow, measured steps, he approached and knelt next to her.

“You have done well, young one,” he said, resting a hand on her bare shoulder. The lightning had burned away patches of her robes, and he could feel the heat still radiating up from her skin. Smoke wafted up from her body, the dry, acrid tang of it filling the room.

Tahiira eventually got herself under control once more, her sobs dying away into pained little sniffs. She rose up to her hands and knees and wiped her streaming eyes. “I..” she coughed. “I had no idea…”

“You are far more than a beacon to Inquisitors, Tahiira Vaas,” Draco said. “In days past, you would have been the envy of the galaxy. Masters of the Jedi and Dark Lords of the Sith would tremble before you, and none would be able to stand before your might.”

She took several deep, calming breaths. “I can feel it now. I… I am far more powerful than the others let me believe.”

He nodded. “They cannot lead you to the mastery you seek. Only I can guide you to such heights.”

She looked up at him, and he saw with satisfaction that her previously violet eyes were now consumed with flame; her pupils were a bloody scarlet, tinged with yellow. She was in the throes of Dark Side passion now, and was experiencing her first taste of the power that accompanied it.

“I… I want such power,” she murmured. “I want you to teach me.”

He nodded slowly and stood to his full height. Reaching behind his back, he unclipped one of the many lightsaber that hung from his belt. He held it out to her and said, “Then you know what we must now do. What _you_ must do.”

With wide, fiery eyes, she reached out and took the saber from him. When she spoke, her voice was low, quiet, but strong. There was no hesitation now.

“Yes… my master.”


	4. The Apprentice

Jedi Master Uma’si paced back and forth through the council chambers, arms linked behind her back as she fought to push back the swell of indignation and anger that was building within her. Her lips were pursed into a tight line, her deep black eyes flashing.

“You had _no right_ to take my Padawan prisoner in her own enclave.”

Master Artouk snorted behind her angular face mask. “We have not only the right but the _responsibility_ to safeguard the other children from the machinations of the Sith.”

“We do not even know if the man she encountered was a true Sith! For all we know, it was a madman who filled her head with foolish lies!”

Master Hisera stroked his beard as he reclined in his seat. “Can we safely take that chance? We have not survived this long by giving in to sentimentality, Uma’si. We must remain vigilant and steadfast, or we are all as good as dead.”

“By treating this as a viable threat, we may have very well averted a much greater crisis.”

Uma’si shook her head, her many head-tendrils flailing. “Condemning the innocent and afraid is not the Jedi way.”

“No,” Artouk said, her stern voice leaving no room for argument. “It is not. But it is _our_ way. A way that has kept us alive for almost two decades since the Republic’s fall.”

Hisera nodded. “Your Padawan has nothing to fear from us, provided she speaks the truth. Do not share her fearful ignorance, Master Uma’si; we will be happy to release her if she is truly innocent.”

“But how can _she_ know that? The moment she raised a hand to defend herself, you turned on her!” Uma’si hesitated, her gaze falling to the ground. “ _I_ turned on her…”

“By the Force,” Artouk snapped. “She lashed out with her powers at a fellow Padawan, then drew a red lightsaber from her belt! What would you have us do when placed before such an obvious threat?”

“Exercise empathy,” the Nautolan master sighed and eased herself into her own uncomfortable council seat. “Sympathy. _Compassion_.”

Hisera was about to speak when Uma’si suddenly felt it: a hot, almost scalding wave of energy that seemed to settle over the chamber, constricting her heart painfully in her chest. It was as if someone had turned the internal temperature compensators up several levels. Sweat broke out across her green-skinned forehead, and her heart began to pound uncomfortably hard in her chest.

From their expressions, the other Masters felt the change as well. It was a powerful surge within the Force, a vengeful tide of Dark Side energy that seemed to race through the air like the crackle of lightning. Within moments, she suddenly found it difficult to breathe with such stifling heat bearing down upon her.

When the temple had fallen, the Dark Side had all but consumed her senses. But then, it was different. It felt sick and cold, shot through with the fear of a thousand dying Jedi. But this was different. Now it was hot, oppressive, and… _angry_.

Tahiira’s description of the mysterious Sith Lord rose unbidden to the forefront of Uma’si’s mind.

_He felt like his aura was aflame. Like magma flowed through his veins, as if this great burning core fueled his actions and generated insurmountable rage. It was unlike anything I have ever felt before._

She let out a short, pained gasp and looked to the other masters. Her heart was sinking into the pit of her stomach, heavy with dread.

“He’s here,” she whispered. “He’s come for her.”

~~~~~~~~

Tahiira rose to her feet, lightsaber clutched tightly in her hands. With a flick of her wrist, she ignited the blade. A fountain of scarlet light sprang to life in the palm of her hand with a sinister _snap-hiss_.

 _Fitting,_ she thought. _If the Masters think me tempted by the Sith, this will certainly not change their opinion._

Draco watched her, his expression unreadable behind his angular battle helmet. He took a single sickly-sounding breath, then folded his arms across his chest expectantly.

“You must now break free from the bonds the Jedi have placed upon you,” he boomed. “You know what that entails.”

She slowly nodded. “I do.”

“Then prove that you are worthy of my tutelage. Let nothing hold you back. Unleash it all.”

“Yes, my master.”

There was no need to wait for further orders. She set off, striding resolutely past the still-smoldering durasteel bars that had been blasted off their hinges by the Force explosion she had released. The bars glowed red-hot, sizzling in the cold, quiet air.

Draco stepped after her, walking at her shoulder but leaving his lightsaber clipped to his belt. The message was clear; whatever came next was Tahiira’s fight alone.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , she thought to herself. _I can prove myself to him. I don’t need him to hold my hand like Uma’si did. I can do this myself._

She gestured with one hand and the door leading to the rest of the complex sheathed open. She immediately ducked through it, unafraid of what lay on the other side.

 _The Masters_ , she thought. _I need to find them._

And then? Then she would show them why they were right to be so afraid of her. She would teach them a lesson they would not forget for the rest of their short lives.

It was wrong to turn against the very Padawan they had trained. It was not the way of the Jedi to cower in fear of symbols like a red lightsaber. Jedi were meant to fight injustice, to stand up to oppressive powers and fight darkness wherever they found it.

Tahiira knew better now. She knew that those lessons had been naive fantasies at best. At worst, they had been simple brainwashing. She didn’t know which was more disgusting.

The Jedi didn’t fight injustice. They created it, just as much as the Imperials they pretended to exist. If they were truly as powerful as they claimed, they would have easily been able to hold back the attack on the temple, would have sensed the imminent betrayal of one of their own.

No, the Jedi were weak and afraid, now more than ever. The Masters were no figures of wisdom and learning. They were tired old men and women, too caught up in memories of their glory days and afraid of the future to be trusted to lead.

Draco, though… Draco was everything the Jedi had pretended to be. He was powerful and driven and – most important of all – unafraid of the Empire. He had seen Tahiira fleeing for her life from two murderous stormtroopers and had cut them down without a second thought. He hadn’t waited and meditated on the morality of his actions, hadn’t debated whether Tahiira was worth saving. He had seen injustice and he had ended it.

 _That_ was the kind of warrior Tahiira wanted to be. The kind she had always wanted to be. And if the Jedi would not lead her to such a destiny, than perhaps the Sith Lord would.

“I sense your determination,” Draco intoned from beside her. “It is good. It will strengthen you for the struggle to come.”

“I am…” she hesitated, almost savoring the word. “I am _angry_ , Master. The Jedi have held me back for years. I want to know what I can do without them.”

“Then show them what they have been restraining. Show them the power they could have used, had they the courage and the fortitude to trust you.”

“With pleasure, Master.”

It wasn’t long before she turned a corner and almost ran headlong into one of the other Padawans. At first her heart fluttered with surprise and fear at stumbling across one of her fellows. But then she saw messy blond hair and an all-too-familiar sneer and her fear turned to cold rage.

“Vesta,” she hissed, her lightsaber humming malevolently in her hand. “I seek the Masters. Where are they?”

The Padawan stepped away from her, shock crossing his face as his gaze darted between her scarlet lightsaber and the armored man standing behind her. His hand drifted toward the lightsaber hilt clipped to his belt; Tahiira almost wanted him to draw the weapon. The idea of dueling him here and now, after so many years of his insults and offences…

“I will not ask again,” she said, taking a step forward. Her voice was level, calm, and _very_ serious. “Where are the Masters?”

Vesta’s voice was trembling. “I-I won’t tell you.”

“That’s not very wise.”

“Stay away from me, Tahiira.”

“Only tell me where the Masters are hiding and I will be on my way.” It was a lie, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. “I will leave you in peace.”

But he wasn’t going to fall for it. He drew his lightsaber and held it close to his chest in a steady defensive position. “I’m not letting you or your Sith friend past, Tahiira. Try to get by me and you’ll die.”

Tahiira moved to fall into a similar stance, but felt Draco’s presence within her mind, nudging her toward the memory of his previous command.

_Let nothing hold you back. Unleash it all._

She thought back to the prison cell and how freeing it had felt to let so much power come pouring from her body. She felt a similar – yet much more subdued – swell of rage building within her again, waiting to be released.

 _Could I do it again?_ she found herself wondering. She flexed her fingers, balling them into a tight fist. _Can I unleash such devastating energy a second time?_

She didn’t want to wait to find out. Before Vesta could attack, she threw out one arm, fingers splayed wide. A scream tore itself from her throat as she felt the Force surge within her once more. The same wave of Dark Side energy roared up within her, as if someone had poured accelerant on an open flame. Within moments, her rage once more came pouring from her in a purely destructive wave of Dark Side power.

Purple-white lightning poured from her fingertips, arcing out in a crackling wave toward the frightened Padawan before her. Vesta’s eyes widened a split-second before he tried to maneuver his blade to block the lethal blast of energy.

Too late. The lightning danced right over his lightsaber and hit him full in the chest. The sparking, shimmering energy wrapped around him, racing across his torso, shoulders, and face. His legs failed him and he collapsed to the ground, screaming as he writhed in agony.

Tahiira couldn’t stop. She _wouldn’t_ stop. It was far too satisfying watching her former tormenter wriggling like a freshly-caught fish on the floor before her. He was still shrieking with pain as lightning danced across his flesh, sending sparks shooting into the air and skittering across the floor. Tahiira poured even more energy into the lightning and she could see flashes of his skeleton, illuminated by the pop and sparking of electricity.

 _This_ was the true power that Draco offered. The power to stand above all who had claimed to be her betters. To bring them to their knees before her, where they always should have been.

Vesta screamed, a high-pitched wail of agony, as the electric storm continued. He clutched his hands close to his chest and kicked his feet out, vainly trying to crawl away to safety.

 _He is beaten,_ she heard Draco thunder in her mind. _Finish it._

She was all too happy to. With effort, she forced back the lightning, feeling the energy race back into her body and settle into a hot, pulsing knot just behind her heart. Vesta was left wheezing for breath, his robes smoking, as he tried to clamber away down the hall.

“T-Tahiira…”

She drew her lightsaber from her belt, igniting it with a flourish.

“Tahiira, _don’t_.”

She stepped toward him, her face drawn down in a mask of rage and hatred.

“ _Tahiira, don’t_!”

She took two steps forward, reversed her grip on her lightsaber, and stabbed it down into his back. Vesta stiffened, a shocked choking sound escaping his lips. Then he slumped forward and didn’t’ move again.

Tahiira yanked the blade free, taking a few steps back. Her breath was strangely calm, her heart beating slow and steady in her chest, bolstered by the warming heat of power thrumming within her.

 She had thought that it would be more difficult to end his life. She thought that she would stagger away, weeping at the horror of what she had done. Perhaps she would vomit in disgust at her actions, or simply run away into the darkness to escape her heinous deeds.

She knew there was no going back now. She had killed a Padawan. The Masters would never forgive her for this, and would kill her rather than allow her back into the fold.

But there was no pity. No remorse. No guilt. Only a numb feeling of satisfaction. Of closure. _This_ was how her story always should have ended. The only thing she regretted was taking so long to make it reality.

 _Vesta deserved his fate_ , she thought. _And the Masters deserve theirs._

She didn’t say a word. She simply stepped past the still-smoking Padawan’s corpse and continued her resolute march down the hall. But Lord Draco made her hesitate.

He remained with the body, stepping closer and towering over the young man’s corpse. Then he knelt and pried the lightsaber from Vesta’s limp fingers. Turning to her, the Sith Lord offered the weapon with an open hand.

“It is yours now,” he boomed. “The trophy of a victory long in the making.”

She stared at him, then nodded and took the weapon, hooking it to her belt. “Thank you, my master.”

“Thank yourself. You defeated him with sheer power and force of will. You were his better, and so he died. As it always should be.”

She bowed her head, content to leave the discussion at that. But he was not finished with her yet.

“Does it hurt? To kill your former compatriots so casually?”

The question was a test. She could sense it.

She shook her head. “No, master.”

“Do you not feel remorse for poor Vesta’s fate?”

“He brought this fate upon himself. Perhaps if he’d been kinder to me all these years, I would have felt some sorrow at his death.”

She gestured to the halls around her. “This place, these people… they hold no fond place in my heart. I was never home with these Jedi. I hold no sympathy for them, except for…”

She paused, feeling hesitancy finally slow her. She couldn’t bring herself to speak more, but Draco thankfully spoke for her.

“Except for your master,” he finished.

She silently nodded.

He continued to stare at her, his hidden gaze carrying no pity or compassion. “You know she must die.”

She nodded again.

“And you know that it must be your blade that takes her life.”

She had figured as much. “I know, my master.”

“And when the time comes, will you be able to do what must be done?”

Tahiira couldn’t say with certainty, and she knew that a definite answer was the only one Draco would accept. So she simply remained silent.

Draco seemed to sense her indecision, but surprisingly did not chastise her for it. Instead, he reached out and placed a clawed hand on her shoulder.

“The Dark Side will give you all the strength you need, Tahiira. It will sustain and protect you through the battle that is to come. And when the time is right, it will guide your hand as you take your former master’s life. All you need is the _will_ to exact vengeance.”

The hand retreated. “Do you have such a will?”

Tahiira Vaas the Jedi would not have been able to answer. But Tahiira the newly-christened Sith apprentice, could.

“I do, my master. My dedication is beyond question.” There was no hesitancy now.

Draco nodded, satisfied. “Good. Very good.”

He gestured down the hall, signaling for her to resume her march to vengeance.

Tahiira bowed her head, then clipped both lightsabers – hers and Vesta’s – to her belt and continued down the hall.

~~~~~~~~

More Padawans tried to stop them. Young men and women that Tahiira had grown up with ignited their sabers and attacked her as soon as they saw her. She cut them down as easily as she had killed Vesta.

Draco did not once attempt to join in the fighting. He only ignited his lightsaber in defense when Padawan Bora tried to attack him, and even then he did not cut the youngling down though it was obvious how easily he could have. Instead, he batted Bora’s emerald saber away and used a short, precise Force Push to send him staggering back to where Tahiira was waiting. She sunk her lightsaber through his spine and watched him crumple with a dying moan to the floor.

Bora was the first. Soon after, Padawans Grejor, Paami, Torex, and Vesh-Tasi shared his fate. Some were better swordsmen than Tahiira, but none could withstand her raw Force power. She could level a Padawan attacker with a single blast of lightning or send them tumbling head-over-heels with a powerful repulsive wave. She used her mind to hurl boxes or shards of glass at her opponents, capitalizing on their distraction to sever limbs or stab her saber deep into their hearts.

Once upon a time, the thought of taking on the entirety of the enclave’s Padawans would have seemed absurd. But Tahiira found that with the Dark Side coursing through her, she was capable of much more than even she thought.

By the time Padawan Vesh-Tasi crumpled to the ground, the hallway was littered with bodies and Tahiira’s robes were stained with blood – both hers and her victims’. She was breathing hard, her eyes glowing fiery yellowish-red in the darkness. After a few moments of silence, she sheathed her lightsaber.

“That’s all of them,” she panted. “They’re all dead.”

Draco said nothing.

She pointed to a nearby door. “The courtyard is this way. We’ll have to go outside to reach the new council chambers.”

“I follow you, apprentice,” Draco boomed. “This is your fight. Lead where you will.”

She nodded and set off, a determined set to her jaw and a dark fury in her eyes. Draco followed close behind, his armored boots barely making a sound as he moved. She could sense his anticipation as they reached the double-doors that led outside; he was obviously looking forward to the impending duel with the Masters. She didn’t think he would simply step aside and allow her to fight alone like he had been doing thus far. She could feel his bloodlust and his overwhelming desire to spill the blood of his ancient enemies.

She didn’t want to keep him waiting. She gestured with a single hand and the heavy double-doors were ripped from their hinges, bending out with a screeching groan of twisting metal. She led them through into the bright sunlight of the outer courtyard.

It took Tahiira’s eyes to adjust to the mid-day sun, but as soon as they did she stopped in her tracks.

All six Jedi Masters were assembled before her, lightsabers drawn and identical scowls on their faces. She could feel their pre-battle serenity buffeting her like a cool wave of ocean water. But they weren’t focused on her; their eyes were fixed on Darth Draco’s armored figure as he stepped into the light.

Draco was obviously no longer content to sit and watch. He stepped in front of her, igniting his scarlet lightsaber and approaching the half-circle of assembled Jedi. Tahiira followed behind, keeping her own saber deactivated in her hand. Her heart was pounding in her chest now, a frustrating transformation from her steely calm when fighting the Padawans.

These were no mere Padawans she was facing now. These were Jedi Masters in their prime, survivors of the Clone Wars and warriors that were conceivably every bit Draco’s equal. And she would be forced to face six at once!

Draco, however, seemed unperturbed. He strode toward the Jedi without fear, not even flinching as the nearest Masters angled their lightsabers to face him as he approached.

“Greetings, Jedi,” he boomed, bowing at the neck. “I am Darth Draco, formerly of the Xexeron enclave of Sith Lords. I have come for the Padawan Tahiira Vaas.”

“ _You!_ ” Master Uma’si’s voice was tight with suppressed rage. “You were the one who corrupted my Padawan!”

“On the contrary,” he said, “I merely opened her eyes to her waiting potential. I promised her nothing more than to train her to embrace her full power.”

“ _Liar_!” Uma’si shouted. Her lightsaber sprang up, held in a tight two-handed grip.

“Calm yourself, Jedi,” Draco hissed at her. “Your anger is unbecoming, and I have no desire to take _you_ on as an apprentice as well.”

“I would rather die!”

He shrugged. “If that is your choice.”

Master Artouk stepped forward now, her humming yellow lightsaber clutched tightly in her taloned hand. She nodded toward Tahiira and in a quivering voice asked, “The blood on your robes… is it—”

“It is the blood of your other Padawans,” Draco said calmly. “They attacked my apprentice. She was forced to defend herself.”

Tahiira could visibly see the effect of the news. Some of the Masters closed their eyes and maintained their serene composure while others’ mouths dropped open in shock and grief. All paled visibly, and Master Boira let out a shocked little moan and dropped her lightsaber to her side, covering her mouth with one hand.

Draco raised his chin and held his lightsaber out to one side in a cautious, battle-ready stance. He raised his voice and boomed, “Drop your weapons, Jedi. Surrender and I will grant you all quick and painless deaths. Resist, and my apprentice and I will be forced to kill you all with more… traditional methods.”

“Tahiira,” Uma’si’s voice was shaking with equal parts anger and shock. The Nautolan master took a step forward, but Master Atouche’s warning hand kept her from approaching the two Sith.

“Tahiira, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me he tricked you. T-that he used some power to control you, or…”

Tahiira shook her head. “Lord Draco is telling the truth. I made this decision on my own. I stand with him.”

Uma’si’s voice hitched in her throat. “But… but the Jedi… we—”

“You _abandoned_ me!” Tahiira snapped. “You turned on me and left me to die. You locked me away in a dungeon to face exile or execution for a supposed crime I never committed.”

She spread her arms. “So I decided to commit it anyway. I was never going to change your minds about me. It was easier to simply embrace what you believed I had become.”

“B-but why? Why turn your back on a lifetime’s worth of teachings?”

“Why?” She stepped up to stand beside a silent Darth Draco. “Because you all shame the Jedi way. You cower and hide in the shadows, paranoid and alone. The Jedi are meant to exact _justice._ To fight _evil_. To be champions of all that is good and righteous.”

“And what of your new Master?” Master Artouk demanded. “You claim you wish to fight evil and then pledge yourself to a Sith Lord? That is hypocrisy of the greatest manner!”

“Is it? You are the only ones who claim the Sith are evil, and you have shown themselves to be no better! If the Jedi will not stand up to injustice and tyranny, perhaps the Sith will.”

“Tahiira—”

“ _No_!” she shouted. She flicked her wrist and ignited her new scarlet lightsaber. “I am tired of Jedi lies! You won’t hold me back any longer! Draco has offered me a life that has _meaning_. _Purpose_! I won’t hide away in the shadows with you anymore!”

“She has made her decision, Jedi,” Draco thundered. “Honor it, or face the consequences of your animosity.”

“You’ve poisoned her against us!” Uma’si shouted. “You’ve twisted her and corrupted her!”

“You have done that yourself,” Draco shot back. “I have merely provided her an escape. A chance to begin anew.”

“Enough!” Master Artouk snapped. The Kel-dor raised her lightsaber to shoulder level. “It is obvious that Tahiira has made her decision. She is his agent now.”

“No!” Uma’si sobbed. “No, it’s not true!”

“Search your feelings, Uma’si,” Artouk growled. “She has been twisted and corrupted by her own hatred. She is _lost_.”

She turned her shielded gaze back to Draco. “There is only one thing we can now do.”

“Do not ask me to do this, Artouk. I cannot strike down my own Padawan!”

“You must,” Tahiira said, raising her lightsaber as well. “If you don’t, then I will kill you.”

Artouk nodded. “It is settled then. Prepare yourself, Sith.”

Draco let out a rumbling growl from the depths of his helmet. He stepped back and unclipped a second lightsaber from his belt, a twin beam of blood-red light erupting from the hilt. He fell into a practiced battle stance, holding his sabers steadily in front of him. Across from him, the Masters all fell into similar positions. Even Master Uma’si raised her saber for battle, though her grip was shaking so badly her saber quivered in her grasp. Tahiira flexed her grip over her saber, eyes darting from one Jedi to the next.

“I will take the Council,” Draco murmured to her. “Your former master is your only priority.”

She gulped, then nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”

“Is your will strong?”

She nodded again. “Beyond question, my lord.”

“Then _go_!”

He suddenly threw his arms forward and unleashed a torrent of lightning from both hands. Master Hisera, the intended target, threw his lightsaber up just in time and deflected the lightning along the blade.

“ _Go!”_ Draco roared.

Then, as one, the Jedi Masters charged.


End file.
